


Bits and Pieces of the Action

by Loethlin



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Gen, Humor, M/M, Pop Culture, Pre-Slash, Silly, Slash, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-15
Updated: 2011-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-27 08:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loethlin/pseuds/Loethlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets, mostly highlighting Kirk and Spock's relationship or moments in their and/or the Enterprise's crew's lives. Beware of varying amounts of crack, slash, TOS and Abramverse mix, no chronology, pop culture references and cliche play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Elevator Music

**Author's Note:**

> Crack. No chronological order whatsoever (this means that sometimes you'll have established relationship and sometimes pre-slash or just friendship). My weird attempts at humor. TOS and Abramverse all mixed up. Always considered complete, because even I do not know when and if I will ever update it. These are just bigger or smaller snippets that I amuse myself with sometimes. I decided to share them with you.

As soon turbolift's door closed, music started playing. Quite loudly. A very obnoxious and overplayed tune Jim knew a little to well for his liking. He groaned and shook his head, to which Spock raised an eyebrow at him in silent query.

"He spent entire day today on this?" Jim said in disbelief and hit the companel. "Kirk to Engineering."

"Scotty here, Captain!" giddy voice on the other end boomed. "See ye found the turbolift upgrade!"

"Elevator music? Are you serious? This is a Starship, not a shopping mall!" Jim let out an impatient huff and covered his face with his palm. "Could you just... Never mind. I just hope it's random playlist and me and Mr. Spock are unlucky."

"Aye, sir!" Scotty sounded a tad too smug. Jim suspected a disaster was incoming. Especially since Spock was starting to fidget slightly, which was quite unusual. "I implemented various 20th and early 21st century songs in the turbolifts! Classics, sir! Admittedly, I was running out of ideas, but-"

"Your captain and second in command are trapped in the lift with fucking Wham!, Lieutenant," Jim said, but irritation was slowly dissolving, making room for amusement, as he realized Spock was not fidgeting but nodding his head, very slightly, to the rhythm. He had a sudden vision of Spock in fedora, doing the jitterbug. It was quite hot, actually. "OK, what other songs are there?"

"No offence, sir, but I think it's more amusing to find out yerself. Just make sure ye're near doctor McCoy when he rides one of them turbolifts near the sickbay, I modified one of them specially for him," there was a laugh and Jim saw both of Spock's eyebrows shoot up.

"You didn't!" this time Jim gave up and laughed as well. Spock gave him a questioning look again.

"What did you find so amusing, Jim?" he asked.

Jim patted his shoulder lightly and grinned.

"You'll find out quite soon, I believe."

By the time he did, they were playing chess and Jim was staring idly at Spock's hands and considered how elegant they were.

Intercom buzzed and irritated voice of McCoy could be heard.

"McCoy to the Captain!"

Jim snickered and grinned at Spock, drawing his attention from the chess.

"Kirk here."

"God dammit, Jim! There's this song playing in my turbolift!" he hollered over the sound of Robert Palmer stating his love for the doctor.

"Bones, appreciate it, Scotty modified it specially for you," said Jim, still looking at Spock, whose eyebrows were so high they were almost invisible. He thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a somewhat upward curve to his pretty, pretty lips as well.

"Elevator music? You let him do this? On a Starship? Good God, man, how old are you?"

"Scotty is a genius, he can do whatever he wants when he's bored, if my girl is safe," Jim replied, quite certain that this was one of the craziest ideas his chief engineer ever had. But well worth it.

"I agree with the doctor, Captain, it is quite juvenile," the Vulcan said, but Jim definitely saw amusement in the eyes he was staring into with such pleasure, so he ignored the essence of the statement.

"Spock..." he whined instead. "Off-duty..."

"...Jim."

"Better. Now, Bones, what were you saying?" but his only reply was a mantra of hate, fuck and hyposprays, so he switched the intercom off and they got back to their chess.


	2. Shorties, part 1

"Bitches lowe me 'cause zey knov zat I can rock... oh, hey Sulu. Bitches lowe me 'cause zey knov zat I can rhyme! Bitches lowe me 'cause zey knov zat I can fuuuuuuuck..."

Chekov waltzed into the rec room and sat at one of the tables. Sulu just stared at him.

"Music in the turbolift?"

"Aye! I find it quite catchy, actually!" Chekov grinned at him and continued to hum his obscene song.

"It supposed to be relaxing. And without lyrics, usually," Sulu pointed out. It's been a week since the so-called upgrade and Scotty's little side project, while lifting the crew's morale, had some unexpected consequences. Like doctor McCoy refusing to go out of his precious sickbay. Apparently, the turbolift closest to his office haunted him with his most hated song. Or Chekov, singing about bitches. Or Yeoman Rand performing air-guitar and singing along to Aerosmith. Granted, when she did that kick, like he saw Steven Tyler doing in that one holovid, was exciting. He could see her panties then. They were pink.

And this morning, the Turbolift greeted him with robotic voice stating "Domo arigato mister roboto".

Sulu lowered his head to the table a little harder than he intended.

* * *

It was completely logical. 430 people stuck on a Starship, they had limited entertainment options. Gambling was one of them. Hence the constant sweepstakes. Even on the most stupid things, like number of consecutive missions that will end with the Captain treated in the sickbay. Or how high heels will Uhura wear next time they see her. Or when will the Captain anger the Commander enough for him to choke the Captain on the helm console again.

Everybody considered Spock to be a very proper and serious person. They were also a little frightened of him. They were sure he would not condone such things as gambling onboard.

Truthfully, Spock should not allow this, but when the news of the recent sweepstake reached him, he carefully considered the possibilities.

Everyone thought Spock had no idea what practical jokes were. That assessment was incorrect.

He then submitted his bet, anonymously, with Nyota's help. He knew she could be trusted not to use the information for personal gain.

Spock was very amused when finally he won all the credits, and even more so, when he picked them up, personally, with everyone in the rec room staring at him.

The betting was on how long before the Captain and the Commander start a romantic relationship.

He was the only person betting they already had.

He assumed the correct human term was 'Jackpot'.

* * *

With a low hum of steady energy, a thin stream of red glow uncoiled from the handle he was holding. It steadily elongated until it was about one meter long and remained as such, giving slight vibrations to the handle, and buzzing pleasantly.

With a swish, Sulu waved the device, concentrated phaser energy giving a whooshing sound as it cut through the air.

"Fuck yeah!" Sulu stated emphatically and gave the device several more swishes. "You're a genius, Scotty."

"It was yer idea, lad," Scotty replied, but grinned at the helmsman. "And Chekov calculated the strain on the material we'd have to compensate fer."

"I deed! Can I hawe a go viz it nov?"

Sulu laughed, turned the phaser-light off. It swished, high-pitched, and was gone. He handed the smooth, silver handle to Chekov, who let out an excited giggle.

"This is awesome. I think I'll put my old katana to rest now."


	3. Cancer that is killing literature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I did it.

Jim thought that the sight that greeted him upon entering his quarters was not that odd.

Spock was lounging, comfortably, on his bed, with an old fashioned, paper book in his hands, reading. The odd part was the very visible scowl on normally neutral face of his first officer.

"What are you reading, Spock?" Jim asked. He loved saying Spock's name, it rolled off of his tongue in such a pleasant way. Dark, alien eyes lifted from the pages and met his. He really liked Spock's eyes too. Especially, since they were the only part of Spock he could see emotions in. He was getting really good at reading him, because of those pretty, pretty brown eyes.

"An early 21st century book. Nurse Chapel lent it to me. I was given to understand it is a very popular novel among female personnel."

Jim flopped on his bed and pulled his golden overshirt off. It was somewhat hot in his quarters. Granted, he set the temperature higher to make Spock more comfortable, and maybe encourage him to spend more time here. Just like he was doing now.

He leaned against the headboard and looked at the book over Spock's shoulder.

"You don't seem to like it very much," he commented.

Spock closed the book, turned his head to Jim and stared at him, obviously considering how best to express his opinion on the novel.

"I believe I can safely say that this book is the cancer that is killing literature," said Spock, in slightly offended voice. "The quality of writing is abysmal, the characters are flat and their actions and motivations are completely illogical."

Jim frowned at those words. He hardly ever heard Spock criticizing anything this harshly, much less a literary work. Even Bones didn't get such a mouthful, ever. But, Spock wasn't finished, apparently.

"I believe the author of this monstrosity used the much frowned upon literary technique of self-insertion therefore creating the female protagonist who can only be described as a Mary Sue," he continued, voice dropping slightly and getting a grating quality Jim recognized as a sign of extreme agitation. "Furthermore my opinion is that even if vampires are only fantastic creatures, they should die when exposed to sun, and not sparkle," Spock practically spat out the last word and glared at the book he was holding.

Jim groaned. He really liked to think he was the only person able to get to Spock enough to piss him off so much he started growling. But apparently Nurse Chapel and her turd of a book were doing a really fine job.

"Give me that!" Jim said and snatched the book from Spock's hands. He looked at the cover. It was black. There was a pair of hands holding a red apple... and yeah! Yeah! What a sick woman! "She gave you 'Twilight'? What kind of a person does that?"

"I believe Nurse Chapel's intention was to establish a rapport between her and me," said Spock, a little more comfortable now that he blew off some steam.

"Not on my watch," Jim said, vehemently, and tossed the book away. "And certainly not with this piece of crap. I'll go talk to Bones, tell him to keep his nurses away-"

"Jim."

Just one word. His name, spoken by Spock in his low, soothing voice, was able to bring him back from going really batshit crazy. He realized he was already halfway to the door. He turned around to look at Spock, who was still lounging comfortably on Jim's bed, his eyes fixed on him.

"I can fend off unwanted attention myself, do not concern yourself with it."

"But Spock..." Jim whined, still angry. "If she keeps it up-"

"Please, Jim," Spock said and allowed himself a little sigh. "I can handle it."

He got up from the bed and stood in front of his captain, then extended his right hand, with two fingers outstretched.

Jim looked at him and smiled happily, his anger forgotten and his confidence reassured. He met Spock's fingers with his own in a Vulcan kiss.

Later that evening they were standing on the observation deck, watching the horrible book floating idly in space.

"Spock..." Jim said, suddenly concerned. "What if some ship picks it up?"

Spock's eyebrows shot up.


	4. Writings on the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toilet humour. Literally.

Uhura stared at the wall of the cave. Then she giggled somewhat nervously and turned around only to meet her captain's curious gaze.

"Something's the matter, Lieutenant?"

"No, Sir. It's just that..."

She explained her findings to Kirk, whose grin was growing wider and wider.

"Really? And you say that that picture over there is-"

"Yes, Sir," she confirmed.

"Shall we have a little fun with it, then?" he said and before she could ask what is going on, he pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to Spock!"

"Spock here. What is it, Captain?"

"Lieutenant Uhura and I found some writings in a cave, Mr Spock. Would you mind coming here and helping us decipher them?" Kirk said and winked at Uhura. She grinned, catching on.

"Perhaps you should send for Lieutenant McGivers instead, Captain. The soil samples I took revealed-"

"It will only take a moment, Spock," Kirk cajoled over the communicator. "And McGivers is busy in the ruins you discovered, she finds them fascinating."

There was a very small sigh.

"On my way, Captain."

By the time Spock got there, Uhura and Kirk managed to calm down enough to keep straight faces when inquired about the writings.

"This is an old variant of Romulan. Lieutenant, I would have thought you were familiar with the language."

"Not in the written form so much, Commander," Uhura replied, trying not to smile. She shot a glance at Kirk, who seemed to abandon any pretense and was grinning like mad. Then again, he was usually grinning at Spock like that.

"Well, Spock? What does it say?" the Captain asked.

Spock turned to the wall and started reading. She could see his ears turning slightly more green than usual.

"This is irrelevant, Captain. The writings here are, I believe human term is 'graffiti'."

"What you mean, graffiti? Can you read it to me? What is this place? Not a shrine of any kind?" Captain pressed on. Uhura tried to hide her smile by turning around, pretending to be very interested in some crude drawing on the wall. It was very, very crude.

"Sir, judging by what I observed on the Enterprise as well in the Academy, I am of the impression that I am currently reading a toilet wall," Spock said and she turned just in time to see his eyebrow rising. If she was to guess, he didn't look pleased.

Kirk lost it then. He chuckled, somewhat nervously.

"So, toilet graffiti? Like, 'For good times, comm Gaila' or 'Admiral Archer likes Porthos from behind'?" he asked.

"Commander, I thought such drawings are usually associated with fertility cults," Uhura said and pointed to the drawing she was looking at. It was a cartoon of a humanoid penis, the kind adolescents usually draw on their school desks. She really tried to swallow the giggle bubbling in her throat.

"Not when the caption beneath it states 'Octavia can take that big a cock up her ass', Lieutenant," Spock replied in his monotone. He looked at Kirk, who was now snickering like a teenager, and raised his eyebrow again. "Captain, I believe my job here is done. After all, the purpose of this particular exercise was to trick me into using words generally considered vulgar, was it not?"

Uhura blushed, embarrassed at being called out so openly, but Kirk only patted Spock's shoulder and smiled again.

"Don't be mad Spock. Go back to your soil samples. I'll see you after we get back to the ship."

"Naturally, Sir," Spock said and, to Uhura's surprise, he didn't seem angry at all.


	5. Shorties, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I did it. Princess Bride theme song. Trekkiefied.

"Jim. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. We meet at the appointed place."

"Spock," Jim replied, grinning. "Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you."

He had no idea where those words came from, but he said them anyway. It was a compulsion, ancient urge, given to him by someone other than the man standing right in front of him on the observation deck.

Their hands tightened in each others and Jim could hear bells, somehow, and a gong and then it was all heat and need and want.

There were lips, pressing onto his, rough tongue probing his oral cavity urgently, arms tightening around him and all he could, all he wanted to do, was to respond in kind.

Somewhere, in his mind there was a voice, saying "Kal-if-ar" …

And the world went upside down.

* * *

A beep pulled his thoughts back to present. It looked as if Spock was waking up from his nap.

He leaned over his patient to check for any signs of distress.

And there they were.

"AHHHHHHH! Bath'pa!"

"Spock! What is it? Does it hurt?" McCoy asked, already pulling out his medical tricorder and waving it over Spock.

"Doctor. Could you please stop leaning over me like this," Spock said, wincing. He didn't look happy, but then again, the green hellspawn never looked anything other than bored or displeased. Except when he looked at Jim.

"Like what! You can't even see!"

"On the contrary, Doctor, and I can assure you, your face is not the sight I consider pleasant," up went that damn eyebrow again.

For a second McCoy considered tossing the hobgoblin an insult right back, but the impulse was held by a medical miracle happening in his sickbay.

"What do you mean, you can see?" he sputtered, running the scanner over Spock again. "Not two hours ago you couldn't!"

"My inner eyelid must have protected my eyes from exposure to the light sufficient to permanently damage my optic nerves," Spock said, dismissively.

"Inner eyelid? I never heard of-"

"I do not see you talking about your appendix, Doctor," Spock hopped off the biobed and headed to the door, McCoy following him hastily. "Is Jim on the bridge? I would very much like to see him now."

"I bet you would," McCoy smirked.

He had to skip every now and then to keep up with the speed-walking Vulcan.

* * *

"So, Mr Spock."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I heard you like Mudkips."

"The game, Captain."

"God dammit!"

* * *

Come my love, I'll tell you a tale  
of Jim and Spock and their love story  
and how he loved him oh, so much,  
and all the logic he did possess.

Now this will happen once upon a time  
When things won't be so complex.  
And how he worshiped the space he fared.  
When he looked in his eyes, he became obsessed.

My love is like a storybook story.  
But it's as real as the feelings I feel.  
My love is like a storybook story.  
But it's as real as the feelings I feel;  
it's as real as the feelings I feel.

This love was stronger than devices so dark,  
A Romulan had within his keeping;  
Machines to crash and break a heart  
Within his chest, but only sleeping.

My love is like a storybook story.  
But it's as real as the feelings I feel.  
My love is like a storybook story.  
But it's as real as the feelings I feel;  
it's as real as the feelings I feel.

Jim said, "Don't you know I love you oh, so much,  
Especially when you beat me at chess?"  
Spock said, "Don't you know that storybook loves  
Always have a happy ending?"

Then he swooped him up, just like in the books,  
And on his starship they flew away.

My love is like a storybook story.  
But it's as real as the feelings I feel.  
My love is like a storybook story.  
But it's as real as the feelings I feel;  
it's as real as the feelings I feel.


	6. Going down?

Turbolift was full of people.

Alpha shift personnel was eager to get off the bridge as soon as possible, and this included Spock.

Meditation was in order, he neglected it as of late due to that unpleasant mission on Altair IV. There simply was no time. Unfortunately, that meant his senses 'were on overdrive', as Jim would say, and that included his touch telepathy.

He needed some personal time, to unwind, light up some candles, maybe indulge in incense as well. As soon as he was out of this turbolift and in his quarters. Surak bless meditation.

Turbolift shook somewhat.

" _...and her panties must be black, to match the heels..._ "

Spock's eyebrow twitched as he pierced the back of Chekov's head with an accusatory gaze. He moved back as not to touch him. Chekov was only seventeen, it was natural to think about coitus so often, but Spock did not need to know about it, or the fact he had such thoughts about Nyota.

High-pitched hoot of the comm sounded and Mr. Scott's voice could be heard, "Sorry mates, we're running diagnostics on the turbolifts, nothing to worry about, but it might get shaky!"

It did get shaky.

" _...I swear, if I hear one more 'wessel' I'll pierce his heart with my training sword. But cute ass, I would totally..._ "

Spock's eyebrow twitched again. He took a quick look around, but to his dismay there was no place he could retreat. The turbolift was crammed and he was surrounded. He tried hunching his shoulders in attempt to accommodate less space, as illogical as it was.

" _...He was a fast machine, he kept his station clean, he was the best damn Vulcan that I ever seen..._ "

This time, both of Spock's eyebrows shot up. He had not known Nyota still had these feelings for him. Or, that she was rewriting 20th century songs about him.

" _Do me._ "

Spock's eyebrows descended and formed an even sharper 'V'.

" _Do me._ "

He gazed at Jim and he found Jim also was gazing at him.

Turbolift shook again.

" _Do me._ "

Spock managed to control his eyebrows and attempted a serene facial expression. It did not work. He also felt fingers tightening on the sleeve of his uniform.

Another bump.

" _Do me._ "

Small smile on Jim's lips. Another bump.

" _Do me, Spock._ "

Spock barely managed to make his eyebrow stay in place. Briefly, he wondered whether someone might interpret the lack of his features' movement for what it was, but he dismissed the idea.

" _Do me._ "

Spock glanced at Jim again and closed his fingers around Jim's hand.

Meditation will have to wait.


End file.
